


The Invisible Spectrum

by LadyRazorsharp



Category: Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Clairvoyance, Gen, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22617046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRazorsharp/pseuds/LadyRazorsharp
Summary: Paul Metcalfe, police detective, uses his paranormal abilities to investigate crimes. He and his partner Adam Svenson work with Captain Charles Grey in a big city police department.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	The Invisible Spectrum

**_AN: This was originally written for a short story contest, but the deadline passed and I decided to keep this in the Captain Scarlet universe._ **

  
  


**_The Invisible Spectrum_ **

_Paul Metcalfe, police detective, uses his paranormal abilities to investigate crimes. He and his partner Adam Svenson work with Captain Charles Grey in a big city police department._

The dingy brick walls were lit with lurid splashes of blue and red as the two plainclothes officers rounded the corner of the tenement building. 

Paul stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his chest. Immediately, he dropped into a crouch as if studying something on the ground. He closed his eyes and lowered his head a fraction, fingers pressed against the sidewalk.

_-gotta get outta here, the cops-_

Behind him, Adam moved between his partner and the lights as Paul went on point. “You got something?” he asked quietly, so as not to attract attention. 

Paul ground his fingertips into the gritty cement, searching for the faint thread of the runaway’s trail. Getting to his feet, he looked down at the sidewalk, wishing it were as simple as seeing the footfalls outlined in glowing green light. At the moment, all he had to go on was a jumble of panicked thoughts and the barest tang of fear sweat on the stagnant air. “He came down here, and went off in that direction.” Paul pointed toward the brighter lights of the cross street, where the traffic crawled past on its way downtown. “He was booking it.”

“You sure?”

Smirking, Paul turned to fix Adam with a knowing look. ”Two years as my partner and you still don’t trust me?” 

Adam rolled his eyes, but he, too, was smiling. “Just get on with it, will you?”

Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then reached out and touched the wall. More images dawned behind his eyelids: A tall, thin man--no, a _teenager_ \--whirling to look behind, shaggy blond hair flinging droplets of moisture that soaked into the bricks. 

_\--short skirt, skimpy top, so much blood, she looks like my sister--_

Paul dropped his hand and walked back to where Adam waited. “It’s a kid.”

One corner of Adam’s thin lips curled in a mirthless smile. “So much for a standard B&E.”

They made their way back toward the lights. “I don’t know how much he’ll be able to tell us,” Paul said with a sigh. “He bolted when he saw the blood.”

“He’s the last person who saw her alive, Paul.” Adam’s voice was grim, his cornflower eyes cold under his cap of icy blond hair. “We need to bring him in.”

“I know.” Paul’s own eyes narrowed to slashes of piercing sky blue, his dark brows drawing together on his square face. “It’s just a question of finding him, now.”

Adam glanced back over his shoulder at the beat cops clustered around the black and whites, then back at his partner. “What do you need me to do?”

“Come on.” Together, they moved down the street, their gait unhurried. When they gained the busier thoroughfare, Adam walked nearer the street to give Paul some cover as his partner dug in a pocket and brought out a pair of sunglasses. As if guiding a blind man, Adam grasped his elbow gently, and together they walked down the street. Beside him, Paul closed his eyes and let Adam take over, all of his senses narrowing to the faint trail of energy left behind by the terrified young man. 

Two blocks down from where they started, Paul stopped, Adam a half-step behind him.

“It’s gone,” Paul muttered. “Too much interference.”

Adam looked at the people milling about: Street musicians; food delivery drivers; people browsing the sidewalk displays of shops; people hailing taxis. A city bus pulled up to the curb a block ahead, exchanged a handful of passengers, then lumbered away and inserted itself back into the traffic. “I get you. Come on, let’s go back to the scene.”

Back at the dingy apartment, the coroner and his assistant were overseeing the careful removal of the white-draped body that had been lying on the drab carpet. When Paul and Adam walked into the room, the coroner looked up with a grim smile. “Any luck?” he asked, though his smoky quartz eyes held no more hope than theirs did.

“He’s long gone,” Adam replied. “We’ll start questioning the neighbors; maybe they saw something.”

The coroner sighed. “Good luck.” He glanced over at his assistant, who was carefully swabbing a section of the gore-soaked rug. When the white cotton tip was saturated with dark red-brown, the young man pulled a specimen tube from his pocket, slipped the swab into it, and sealed it securely before handing it off to the coroner. “Thank you, Seymour. Let’s get this poor girl settled down at headquarters.”

Paul held out his hand toward the coroner. “Can I see that, Ed?”

Exchanging a glance with Seymour, Ed gave the tube into Paul’s hand. “Sure thing.”

“It’s all in order,” Seymour protested, but Adam halted him with an upraised hand.

“He just wants to look at it.” His eyes flicked to Paul, who wrapped his fingers around it. “What do you think?”

Paul stared at the grisly object for a long moment, filtering out everything except the fading essence of the young woman whose body lay cooling on the gurney nearby. The feelings that washed over Paul were heartbreaking and familiar: Shock. Fear. Regret at lost time. Longing for loved ones--her mother, and a younger sister. Flashes of childhood: toys; a home filled with the gentle light of memory; the fleeting scent of beef stew. Swallowing hard, he pushed aside the surface images and forced himself to go deeper. He gripped it firmly, squeezing his eyes shut--and suddenly a face flashed across his vision.

Pale skin. Dark stubble on a square jaw. Flat, dead eyes. Black hair.

Gasping, Paul swam back up to awareness. Instantly, Adam was beside him, peeling his fingers from the vial. “Seymour, come take this,” Adam snapped, and the young bronze-skinned man jumped forward to do just that. When the vial was safely stowed in the coroner’s case, Adam turned back to Paul, frowning in concern. “What is it?”

“It’s Turner,” Paul gritted, shaking his head as if to clear away the face of his one-time partner. “She saw him.”

Adam’s eyes popped wide. “You mean _he_ killed her?”

“I don’t know. He might have been one of her...clients.” Paul ran a shaking hand over his face. “All I know is that she’s seen him recently, and he made an impression.” He shook his head. “You’ve been with me long enough to know that it’s not an exact science.”

“Your initial impulses are rarely wrong,” Adam admitted, laying a hand on his partner’s shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze. “But it’s hard to think about Conrad murdering someone.”

Paul sighed and let Adam steer him from the room. “All of us have the potential within us to be killers. It’s up to us whether to resist that impulse, or to give in to it.” They exited the shabby apartment and headed down the hallway. “I hope to God he hasn’t given in.” They stopped at the nearest door, and he rapped on the shabby wood with his knuckles. “Police,” he barked. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

Charlie Grey studied the file in front of him with piercing blue eyes, wishing the words would change, but knew they would not. He looked up into the equally intense blue eyes of his senior detective. “Paul, you know I can’t admit this into evidence,” the white-haired captain reminded the younger man. “Your abilities are outside normal police procedure.” He closed the file and crossed his arms over his chest. “Granted, per our special exemption, they can _inform_ police procedure, but they cannot be used as evidence on their own.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir,” Paul replied. “There’s too many variables, and I wouldn’t want someone’s life or freedom to depend upon my say-so.”

Grey smiled grimly. “I know you wouldn’t. Still, this is noteworthy. It’s always a serious business whenever a former police officer is mentioned in conjunction with a crime.” He shook his head. “Conrad was a broken man when he left us. I’d hoped that the hospitalization had done him some good, but it may have been in vain.”

Adam glanced at Paul, then back at his captain. “Is there a possibility he may have escaped from the hospital?”

“If so, I wasn’t informed.” Grey looked up at his two best detectives. “Still, he needs to be found immediately and questioned. Any idea where he might have gone?”

Paul let his eyes drift shut once again, reaching for the memory of Conrad’s icy visage. “He didn’t travel far to see the girl,” he murmured. “If he met her at her apartment, then he might live nearby.” He opened his eyes and blinked away the fog. “That’s all I have.”

Grey nodded at Adam. “Go down to the hospital and see if he left a forwarding address. We’ll start there.”


End file.
